


Pissing Off Rodney

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Gates of Hell, M/M, Rough Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Rodney has had it with John making him the butt of the joke when they’re off-world.  He’s determined to get John to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pissing Off Rodney

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sga_kinkmeme for [this prompt](http://sga-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5434.html?thread=322618#cmt322618): John/Rodney, D/s, dom!Rodney, whatever kinks you feel like working into this. After difficult missions Rodney needs to feel in control again.

Rodney stalked to his room after the debriefing, John following along quietly. He didn’t mind tough missions, even tough missions where he was made to be the butt of the joke, but tough missions where _John_ had made him the butt of the joke? That was too far, and John knew it.

He banged his hand down on the door control, and the door slid open obediently. As soon as they were through it, he ordered the door to shut. It did so quickly, but Rodney spared a thought that he wished there were doors he could slam. 

Grabbing John by the front of his shirt, he pushed him back against the closed door, hard enough to rattle it. “Pissed?” John said mildly.

“Damn straight I’m pissed,” Rodney said hotly. “And you know exactly why, so don’t give me any of your bullshit excuses.”

He just smirked at him, which only served to piss Rodney off even more. He growled, and shook John again, before twisting and shoving John further into the room. “Clothes off,” he ordered. When John opened his mouth to say something, he shook his head. “Unless you’re safewording, I don’t want to hear it,” he spat.

John hesitated for just a moment more, before nodding sharply. He bent over to unlace his boots, and Rodney took the opportunity to circle around him, reaching out and grabbing his hips. John jumped a little, but was smart enough not to stop working on his laces.

Rodney let go when John finally straightened and stepped out of his boots. Pulling off his t-shirt with one hand, the other was already busy undoing his belt. When he got the zipper undone, the pants sagged around his ass, and he pushed them down and off. Kicking the whole tangle away, he came to stand at parade rest.

“Very nice,” Rodney said as he continued around to John’s front, where John’s hard cock made it clear just how interested he was in the whole thing, even if he was working hard to keep a neutral look on his face.

He reached out and pinched a nipple, twisting it sharply to the right, making John hiss. “You’re an ass. You know that, right.” It wasn’t a question.

Long experience had apparently taught John that when Rodney wanted him to speak, Rodney would tell him, because he didn’t say anything. His eyes, however, were eloquent in their speech. Rodney knew that if he let John talk, he would have _reasons_ and _excuses_ for why he’d done what he’d done, but really? Rodney didn’t much care.

He held the twist for just a couple of seconds past John’s comfort level before letting go. “I know that out there, you’re in charge, and I have to do what you say, and I do it. But there’s giving me reasonable orders, and there’s making me a clown, and I won’t stand for that.” He met John’s look head-on. “Do you understand?”

John had that mulish look he got when he was convinced he was right against all the evidence. “Rodney - “ he started in a conciliatory way.

“Did I ask you to justify your actions?” Rodney said. “No, I did not. So I guess you _don’t_ understand. Out there, you’re in charge. In here, _I_ am. On your knees.”

There was a moment’s hesitation. It didn’t seem like John was deliberately disobeying him, however, more like it took him a second to figure out exactly what Rodney had said. As soon as he figured it out, though, he dropped to his knees. He kept his eyes on Rodney’s face, even though that meant that he had to tip his head back at an uncomfortable angle.

Rodney let him kneel there for a moment, before reaching down to run his hand through John’s hair. “You want to blow me, don’t you? Answer.”

John nodded eagerly. “You know I do, Rodney,” he said. The hell of it was that Rodney knew that John really did - it wasn’t an act. John had quite the oral fixation and something that bordered on obsession with Rodney’s dick. And his dick was quite firm in its opinion that it was good with the “Make John suck his cock” plan. But giving John what he wanted wouldn’t cement this in John’s brain as a punishment.

“You’re a slut,” Rodney said. “And you’re good at it, I’ll grant you, but I don’t see any reason to give you what you want. Do you?”

John started to answer, and then bit his lip. Rodney tightened his hand in John’s hair till he blinked, his eyes going glassy. 

“I think you need to be punished. So, here’s the deal. You’re going to kneel here until you come up with a plan to apologize to me, and make me believe that it’ll work.” With that, Rodney let go of John’s hair all at once, watching as he swayed on his knees for a moment, before he managed to stabilize himself.

Turning his back, he went over to his desk, where his laptop was. Determinately ignoring John, he sat down, booted up the machine and opened his email. He might as well take advantage of the time to see what the dancing monkeys were up to.

He glanced through his email, only half of his attention on what he was reading. The other half was behind him, listening for sounds of John moving.

For about twenty minutes, and six scathing emails to stupid people in the science department, all he heard was the rough sound of John’s breathing. He was starting to worry that this wasn’t going to work. When he heard the sounds of John starting to move across the floor, his shoulders knotted up even further. What if John was going to leave? He didn’t think it was likely, but it was _possible_.

The sounds were coming closer, and even though it was hard, Rodney very carefully didn’t look until John was even with the chair, so that he didn’t have to turn around. “Yes?” he asked, looking disdainful.

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” John said. The hell of it was, he looked sorry. Rodney knew better, though. John was the master of saying things he didn’t mean. What he was selling, Rodney wasn’t buying.

“Right, and with that apology and a couple of bucks, I could buy a coffee. If Starbucks had a Pegasus branch, that is. You’re going to have to try harder than that to make me believe it.” It was hard to stay a hardass though, when John was looking more frustrated by the word. “You’ve been thinking for twenty minutes, and that’s all you’ve come up with?”

“Well, no,” John said ruefully, “but for the other thing I came up with, I need permission to go in the toy chest.”

The “toy chest” - really, a locking nightstand keyed to Rodney’s DNA - was something that John was only rarely allowed in. It took some balls to ask, and Rodney was curious enough to get up and open the drawer.

John asked Rodney with a glance for permission to get off his knees, and since that was going to be the only way that John was going to be able to see, he nodded. John was less than graceful getting up, and Rodney felt a twinge of sympathy for his knees, but only a twinge. He stepped back, to give John access, and waited impatiently as John dug around for a moment.

He had to blink in surprise when John held up what was in his hand - it was the Gates of Hell that Rodney had bought on a whim on their last trip to Earth and used once on John. It was one of the few things that they’d done that John had ever safeworded on. It hadn’t hurt him, but the distraction of being unable to get fully hard had kept John from falling into subspace, and that had made everything else hurt in not good ways.

Taking the bundle of leather and metal, he waited patiently for John to explain his thinking. When there was no information immediately forthcoming, he gestured impatiently. “Well,” he said.

“I thought that you... that I...” John dropped his gaze, looking at something fascinating on the floor, and stopped talking.

Rodney reached out and grabbed John by the chin, tipping his face up so that he had to look at Rodney. “You thought,” he said, letting his voice get just a little bit softer.

“I thought that you might, you know, put that on me. And then, uh, you might want to spank me or whip me or something. You know.” John’s voice was a little desperate, as if he _had_ to get this right. Which, if he ever wanted assisted orgasms again, he really did.

“You like it when I spank and whip you,” Rodney said.

“I won’t with that on,” John said, nodding towards the toy. “Trust me, I won’t.”

He had a point, Rodney had to admit. He wasn’t going to stop there, however. John was going to _remember_ this, dammit. “Hmmm. I suppose after I spank you, you expect me to make you come,” Rodney said, a little scornfully.

“Only... only if you want,” John said. “I figured it was going to be a while before I got to come, actually.”

Rodney nodded thoughtfully. “So, pain you don’t like, and no orgasm for what? At least twenty-four hours?’

John nodded frantically. Rodney thought about it seriously. It was actually a pretty good punishment, and he could make it better. “I suppose that will work, with one addendum,” he said.

“Anything,” John said.

Rodney reached into the drawer, and pulled out the green plug. It wasn’t so big that he’d injure John with it, but it would be a challenge for what he had in mind. “You’ll wear this for the next twenty-four hours, so that when I want to fuck you, all I have to do is pull it out and slide in.”

“But - “ John started, and then hesitated.

“Spit it out,” Rodney said.

“What about the bathroom?” John asked, blushing to the roots of his hair. Rodney found it endearing, just a bit, and didn’t try to stop himself from brushing the backs of his fingers over John’s cheek.

“If that becomes an issue, just let me know, and we’ll... take care of it. Do you think that will work to get it through your thick skull what I consider to be appropriate?”

Still fairly red, John gave him a saucy wink anyway. “Only one way to find out,” he said.

Rodney thought it through one last time, and decided that yeah, it seemed like a worthwhile thing to try. He gave a sharp nod, and went to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing for John to come stand between his thighs.

Unsurprisingly, talking about his feelings had softened John’s cock substantially, but it was starting to stir again. Not giving John a chance to get fully hard, Rodney worked quickly to get the Gates in place. By the time the last one was snugged down below the head of John’s cock, John was already looking uncomfortable. 

Giving John’s thigh a firm pat, he said, “Okay. Go fetch the cane.”

John’s eyebrows about climbed into his hairline at that. “Um, Rodney, I don’t know...” his voice trailed off.

Rodney didn’t actually have to say anything. Apparently his opinion of “just” a spanking was pretty damn clear on his face.

“Right,” John mumbled, and went to the closet. His stride was weird, and Rodney almost - _almost_ \- chuckled. He had himself back under control by the time John had returned, the cane clenched in his fist. 

Standing, Rodney waved towards the bed, and John carefully laid down the cane before bending over and placing his hands flat on the bed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rodney could understand his reaction. Usually, John was only caned after he was worked up to it, because it hurt like a bitch. Even someone like John, who liked pain to an unhealthy degree, sometimes had trouble handling it.

Rodney just stood there for a long moment, letting the tension in the room build. By the time he picked up the cane, John was shivering and sweating. Given what he was getting ready to do, he felt a little generous, so he said, “Feel free to yell.”

With that, he brought the cane down firmly across John’s ass. It wasn’t quite full strength - he was pissed, but not that pissed. It was still hard enough to get a harsh sound from John. It wasn’t quite a yell, but it was more noise than Rodney usually got this fast.

He didn’t hesitate before bringing the cane down again, just an inch or two below the first. And then again, and again. He gradually increased the force he was using, until he was leaving welts thick enough that John was going to have trouble sitting for a few days. When John let out a full-blown yell, he paused for a moment, letting him get his wind back.  
John probably wasn’t counting since Rodney hadn’t told him to, but Rodney had. It had taken nineteen to get him to yell, but Rodney wasn’t quite done. “Six more,” he grunted.

He wasn’t surprised when John didn’t say anything, but he was panting harshly. Rodney gave him a second more, even though he was doing John no favors. The pause would let him focus in on the pain, and panic just a bit at the idea of more and then Rodney brought it down, not holding back at all.

There was no surprise when John yelled again at each blow to his ass. When Rodney’s mental count hit twenty-five, he dropped the cane on the bed, and grabbed John’s ass, squeezing firmly.

John’s panting had turned to harsh sobs, and Rodney could just barely hear him muttering, “Sorry, Rodney. I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.”

“I know,” Rodney said, and the temptation was strong to let John out of the Gates, rub some lotion on his ass, and let him sleep. But he was making a point, so after one last rub over the welts, he let go.

“I want you on the bed, on your back,” he said. John scrambled to obey, and Rodney watched for a moment, until John was pretty much settled. Reaching into the drawer, he pulled out the wrist cuffs, which he fastened to John, and then hooked to the short ropes attached to the legs at the head of the bed.

“Eyes open.” Rodney ordered, when he noticed that John had closed them. “I’m going to fuck you, John, and I want to watch me and keep in mind just why you aren’t going to get to come.”

John nodded. Rodney climbed on the bed between John’s legs, forcing them wider, so that John would feel completely exposed. Rodney reached over John’s shoulder and grabbed the lube, since even though he wanted John to really feel it; he wasn’t interested in rubbing the skin off his dick.

Spreading the bare minimum of lube on his cock, he slid his hands under John’s ass, urging him to lift his hips so that he could see his hole. It took him two tries to get lined up right, and then he was pushing firmly into his favorite spot on Atlantis.

Hot, so fucking hot, and brutally tight around his dick. He kept his eyes on John’s face, though, not missing the struggle there for John to relax, to accept what was happening to him.

“Burns, doesn’t it?” Rodney asked, scraping one of his nails over a swollen welt on John’s ass.

“You, you know it does,” John gasped out.

“Yeah,” Rodney said, a little breathless. He started to move his hips, fucking into John’s ass hard and deep. John whimpered, and the sound went straight to Rodney’s balls. “You’re mine, John, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” John said, a little desperately. “Yours, I promise.”

All Rodney wanted to do was pound John’s fine ass until he came, but he was making a point here, so he slowed it down a little, just enough to get off the edge. “I’m going to fuck you so many times over the next twenty-four hours, fill you up with my come. And the next time you think of using me as a clown, you’re going to think of your sore ass and your blue balls, aren’t you?”

John nodded fervently. 

Rodney shifted his grip on John’s ass, spreading his fingers to cover as much territory as he could, before he squeezed it hard. John cried out, hips bucking. It drew Rodney’s attention to his cock, which wasn’t fully hard, but was doing a damn good job of trying to get there despite the rings surrounding it.

Moving his hands out from under John, he leaned forward, taking his mouth in a brutal, biting kiss. John moaned into his mouth, and it was the last thing that he could take. He sped his thrusts up, not holding back at all, and after a few strokes, his orgasm hit him with all the subtlety of a freight train.

He continued to move through the aftershocks, slowing and stopping as his cock grew soft. They both shuddered as he slid out. In Rodney’s case, it was from being oversensitive. He thought that John was just desperate to get out of the Gates and come. Unfortunately, coming wasn’t on the agenda, and Rodney was about to make the desperation worse.

Picking up the plug from the nightstand, he slid back so that he was sitting on his heels. “Bend your knees and spread your legs,” he ordered John, who did as he was told. Setting the plug down on the bed, he spread John’s cheeks so that he could see his hole, which looked red and swollen, but not badly.

“Plug now, John,” he said, releasing one cheek and picking the plug back up. John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rodney let him have that moment before he started to push it in.

The plug was narrower than Rodney’s cock, but not by much. John groaned as it settled into place. Rodney patted his ass and got up from the bed. “You just stay there and let it sink in that this is you for the next twenty-four hours,” he said, as he walked to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. “I won’t make you wear the gates all day, unless you prove unable to control yourself, but for now, you’ll keep them on.”

He cleaned himself up, and then grabbed a towel to lay on his desk chair. Sitting down, he brought up his email.

“Um, Rodney - are you going to unchain my hands?” John asked after a minute or five.

“Not for now,” Rodney said. “I’ll be ready for round two in an hour or two. After that, we’ll see.”

Yes, he was still pissed over earlier, but the next twenty-four hours were going to make up for a lot. He was going to make sure of it.


End file.
